At The Risk Of
by EllaMennowPea
Summary: Some sort of virus has been dispersed amongst Hogwarts. It has forced everyone to begin speaking only the truth and at random intervals their emotions completely disappear. With the looming threat of Voldemort outside of the castle's walls, the staff has no choice but to select students to work on the antidote. And it just might work-if they don't kill each other first.
1. Chapter 1

It was a normal day. And then it wasn't.

I was trying to procrastinate for a moment. It was the first time in six and a half years that I felt blasé in the face of academia. Term was in its infancy after the winter holiday. I was wearing my cerulean scarf that Petunia gave me for Christmas. Well, by that I mean my mother picked it out and put Tuney's name on the sticker that marked it as mine.

The next bit is a little fuzzy to say the least.

There was a chanting of some sort and then a loud, room-shaking boom that I felt more than heard. Someone screamed. I looked for Mary, knowing she wasn't even in the common room—probably trying to sneak her way to the kitchens for an early dinner—yet, I thought for a moment that if I looked hard enough she would appear amidst the chaos.

I saw people coughing and falling to the ground as though they encountered chloroform—of course with this environment, I wouldn't find someone who knew what chloroform was for quite a few steps. Kinsey Norton collapsed half on half off the scarlet couch, her head coming to rest on Charlie Huff's lap. For a brief moment of teenage immaturity I felt anticipation building for when they awake and the awkwardness inevitably ensues.

And then I was suddenly thrown by the idea that I was not sure _what_ was happening and there was a very real possibility that they may never awaken.

I looked to my far left.

The Head Boy was sitting on the stairs with his playmates surrounding him. His eyes were scanning the room for something. Why was he so calm, I thought. I didn't have much time to ponder on his serene state however, because the next few moments were when the gas was dispersed.

It smelled like rain.

And then I passed out.

When I woke, I coughed and waved my hand in front of my face to clear the smoky air so I could breathe. My face felt like it was unsticking from my parchment. For a brief second I thought I'd have ink marks on my cheek from laying there.

I heard screams all around me. Someone banged into a table and sent my books to the floor. I heard coughing, gagging, yelling, people trying to get to their friends, trying to find somewhere familiar.

"Agnes?" Cynthia Crowley called for her best friend, the bane of my existence—well, one of them-Agnes Shipler.

"Moony?" I heard Sirius Black's gruff voice. "Wormtail? Wormtail!"

"Bugger off Padfoot, I'm right next to you," Peter Pettigrew's voice said with amusement.

The next few hours were a blur. I can't remember most of it. Finding Mary was a blessing. It was a few moments after I woke up. I was practically sprinting down the staircases, my Head Girl badge flopping up and down on my robes. I really should pin that on more securely.

"Mary! Oh Merlin and Agrippa, am I happy to see you. Where were you?" I asked her in one breath. "Do you know what happened? I have no idea what happened. I don't like not knowing things…"

"I went to the kitchens and had 6 pumpkin pasties," as soon as the words flew from her mouth she clapped a hand over it. Her eyes went wide, and for Mary Macdonald that was not a pretty picture because she had the biggest doe eyes I'd ever seen. "I didn't mean to say that!"

"I figured you were eating. You're so skinny, it's not fair! I kind of hope you get chubby soon because you can eat whatever you feel like and yet I have one piece of pie and gain six pounds. I should start working out somehow; I've gained so much weight." I didn't mean to say that. I cursed and put my head down in shame for a brief moment.

"That's what happened to my mum," she nodded. "She got fat. And you're not fat. But you have put on some weight. Mostly on your hips."

"I know. It's awful. I had to get two new skirts."

"You could just borrow some of Dorcas's. She's the biggest of us." Mary's eyebrows knotted together. "Why would I say that? That's terrible."

"We're both saying awful things."

"Can we just skip the awkwardness and follow these people?" Mary suggested. I nodded, still dumbfounded.

Mary looked at a few students, mixed houses. She came across Nancy Yelvich and squinted her eyes. "You used to be brunette, Nancy. What? Finally decided to go with your ditzy nature and bleach it? Or did you use a charm? No, you're not quite bright enough. Did Linda help?"

I put my arm through Mary's and guided her away from Nancy's glaring eyes. We sat down midway down the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.

I scanned the crowd, but couldn't yet make out Hestia's long, perpetually-in-disarray mop of black hair.

"You won't tell Dorcas that I said that stuff about her will you?" Mary asked me. Her eyes darting about as though she were a child caught with extra candy ready to be caught.

"No. I don't want her to take it the wrong way."

"Right." She huffed for a moment. "I don't know why I told Nancy that. I don't even think blondes are stupid, I mean, look at Marlene."

"You just don't like her."

"Marlene's all right. She can be a right git in the mornings."

"I meant Nancy, y'moppet."

"Students!" McGonagall's Scottish accent wafted heavily through the room.

The crowd quieted after a few minutes of McGonagall shouting. Dumbledore finally stood and called for attention.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled even from across the room. I took in his shoulder-length gray hair that suited him so well. "Attention, everyone. I know that the incident that occurred a few moments ago was rather shocking. I assure you we are doing our very best to remedy the situation. In the meantime, please allow your prefects to guide you back to your common rooms."

Mary looked at me with an expression that clearly denoted that she felt she just wasted time. I'd seen that look before. It was planted firmly on her features after every exam.

"Are you kidding me?" She breathed. "We just stampeded from the tower to here just to hear that what happened was shocking and it's going to be fixed?"

"He just wants the students to know that they aren't ignoring what happened. It's to keep people calm." I allowed. She rolled her eyes at me.

"Don't start with that logic business, Lily Evans. You know that was burning daylight just as much as I do."

"You're getting literary, Mare. Calm down."

She took a few breaths. Her eyes looked about the room and connected with her boyfriend's. Tate, who was seated at the Ravenclaw table, smiled slightly in our direction and then turned to talk to his housemates. He served as the seventh year prefect.

People began to stand from the benches and make their way towards the doors. I stood and swung one leg over right when Dumbledore continued.

"May I ask for James Potter and Lily Evans to come to my office first thing tomorrow morning?"

"Why do y'reckon he wants to meet with us?" James Potter came to my side much later when I was finishing up my Ancient Runes work that I'd left when the incident occurred.

"Probably to tell us what exactly happened," I told him as I bit my lip and used the back of my hand to wipe a small amount of sweat from my brow. I put down my quill and tied my hair back as quickly as possible.

If I'd been paying attention, I probably would have noticed that Potter seemed anxious at my words. "You don't think they actually know what happened, do you?"

"Probably not," I sighed and rolled up my parchment.

"Well," He paused for a moment or two. I put the top back onto my ink jar securely. "Remus reckons it was some kind of attack."

"Who would attack the entire school?" I countered.

"You know who, Evans."

"You-Know-Who?" I snorted. "Voldemort hardly has the wherewithal to infiltrate Hogwarts—especially under Dumbledore's watch."

"Exactly what I told Peter."

"I thought you said it was Remus who said that?"

He coughed into his hand and nodded. "Yeah, I did. He did. We were all just talking about it, that's all."

I appraised him for a moment. For once under my gaze he didn't bother with ruffling his hair—a habit I had to say I cared very little for. Then my thoughts drift back to the actual moment that the attack took place. "If I remember, you and your mates didn't seem too troubled when it was happening."

"Wha'dya mean?" He looked at the ground. I scooped my supplies into my knapsack and clipped it closed.

"I saw you when the smoke was filling the common room earlier." I informed him. He nodded and put his head to the side as if to tell me to continue. "You were just looking at everyone freaking out. It was at sixes and sevens and yet, you didn't seem to be as frightened as the rest of us."

"I thought it might have been a prank. Or a potion gone wrong. A stupid first year making a mistake—I dunno," James coughed into his hand again and then ran the same hand through his dark hair.

"I hate when you do that," I breathed.

He laughed and shook his hand, "I hardly think anything I do, ever, could please _you_, Evans."

"I can't stop thinking about it. Do you honestly believe it was an accident?"

"Sod's Law, love," he says to me. I watch him stand up and dust off his trousers before walking away to his precious mates again.

I changed quickly into my sleeping clothes and wrapped my dressing gown around me tightly. Something made me feel like I needed to be warm, cozy, comforted. I made my way to the toilet and ran into Hestia. Her cheeks were flushed as usual.

"There you are," Hestia declared. Her voice, which was usually so deep and calm and collected, sounded overly so. It was monotone.

"Here I am," I replied. I noticed with a small dose of horror that my voice was also monotone. "Why are we speaking so flatly?"

"That's what I came to ask you about." She revealed. "I was just havin' a chinwag with Marlene in the common room with Cynthia and we were discussing how we think Black and his crew are responsible for this whole situation, and then as if I wasn't already in a bloomin' snit, all of a sudden, our voices go all flat."

"This is terrible," I murmured.

"Tell me about it," Hestia muttered to herself, her voice still in one even tone.

"It sounds a bit…well, funny to hear your voice. You still have your cockney but it's so flat."

"Don't get me started, red, I'm already about to rip an eye out."

"Due to this virus the school has been exposed to, as I'm sure you've noticed," Dumbledore peered over his half-moon spectacles at James and me. "We seem to be unable to express our emotions adequately. I'm unsure of this plan's intention, but it was undoubtedly done on purpose. We just need to understand what purpose it may serve."

James and I sat, waiting for more. Dumbledore rose from his throne-like chair and crossed to the window. With the bright blue tinted light drifting in, I could only recognize his silhouette as I squinted towards him. James stared straight ahead. His composure annoyed me but I didn't sense the need to tell him so.

"As Heads, you have a great service to perform to your school, to the fellow students, and I appreciate your efforts thus far. However, I am appointing Miss Turner of Huffelpuff and Mr. Lowell of Ravenclaw to replace you both as head girl and boy, respectively." Dumbledore didn't turn to face us.

My blood boiled. I felt rather than saw James tense up next to me and knew immediately that he felt a similar way. It had been two weeks since the beginning of second term; we hadn't had time to mess anything up yet! On what grounds were we being replaced?

"I'm afraid I don't understand," James said, his voice even.

"Sir, if I may, I've been diligent in divvying up the rounds schedule, and Potter-er, I mean James has been surprisingly good at calculating the points totals. We've done everything asked of us, I'm not sure I understand why exactly we are being replaced." I said, my tone annoying even and slightly monotone. Whatever this virus was, I despised it. "I mean, Potter I would understand, but I've been nothing but diligent thus far—"

"What do you mean 'Potter I would understand'? I've done everything you've asked of me, Evans."

"I told you to go inform Odin that he was on patrol tonight."

"And?"

"You doused him in Petrol!" I said in a monotone. It would have been impactful had I been able to express accurate emotion. But I felt the virus suppressing those.

"Miscommunication on your part does not constitute an error on mine."

"You vile—"

"Miss Evans, please," Dumbledore held up a hand and turned around. I was surprised to see a small smile on his face—not only because of our current situation but also because the 'virus' that has plagued Hogwarts the past few hours has left us bereft of the ability to show emotion. I haven't seen a smile in an hour, and though it was a sight for sore eyes, it was the wrong facial expression. I was still reeling. "You have not let me finish."

"Continue, sir," James was motionless in his chair, whereas I found myself fidgeting. Leave it to me to be able to show my anxiety despite some kind of affected state.

"I will replace you as heads. I will inform the student body that the reason, though it should remain a secret, is because of misconduct. Mr. Potter, given your affinity to hijinks, I don't believe this should arouse any suspicion. Miss Evans, I'm less sure of what to say about you." He paused.

I looked down at my hands, folded in my lap. How strange. I thought I'd been wringing them. In my mind I'd felt the sensation of anxiousness. But I didn't portray it.

"But, if no one asks, I doubt we will have to divulge any excuses." He said. "Now, due to this school's state, we are going to need our best and brightest working on the antidote."

"Antidote? I thought this was unprecedented." I looked up at him from under my fringe. His eyes seemed to twinkle for a moment before the light in them was once more tamed.

"Miss Evans, Mr. Slughorn tells me you are his most gifted potions pupil, aside from Mr. Snape that is." At the sound of Sev's name I felt my heart ache in my chest. I hadn't spoken to him in months. It hurt so badly.

"And Mr. Potter, though you do not possess Slughorn's good graces, I am aware of yours, Mr. Black, Mr. Lupin, and Mr. Pettigrew's abilities regarding charms, transfiguration, and seemingly achieving the impossible."

James seemed to stiffen next to me. I was confused. My gaze flickered between the Headmaster and the Head Boy. What did he mean by that? When James sensed my staring he turned to me and gave me a very small, subtle shake of the head. Now, one could pretend it meant that he didn't want to talk about it, but obviously he meant that it had to wait until later. For now, the unexplained would remain just so.

I was about to open my mouth to inquire but Dumbledore beat me to it.

"You both, along with the other three Gryffindors, and Mr. Snape, will be allowed to utilize every amenity the Potions classroom has to offer until you can figure out some form of a cure. I understand this is a lot of responsibility, but it is my firm belief that you will thrive and help us all." He finished.

"Professor, Severus Snape and I aren't exactly keen on each other," James murmured. "Especially after last year's incident."

"I understand, Mr. Potter. But you both, along with the others, have impeccable abilities, and because of the adversity this school is facing, I don't think it's best to not include members of other houses. We must come together. I've already briefed Mr. Snape and he seems to be willing to work on the majority of the potion-making."

"So he's going to try and do all the work, is he?" I chimed in.

"You will work together," Professor Dumbledore said firmly.

After a few more brief statements, wherein the Headmaster informed us that Madame Pomfrey, as well as the remainder of the staff would attempt to aid us in this endeavor. I asked why we, students, were in charge of the antidote. He informed me that the wizarding world was, unfortunately, fighting some forces far more extensive than an anti-emotion, truth drought.

We were excused from his office. On the way out, James ushered me out the door first. Once back in the corridor, I turned on him. Although I was livid, I regrettably could only speak calmly to him.

"What's all this 'achieving the impossible' rubbish?" I asked.

"Evans, ignore it. We have to work together on this," he returned. His disposition reminded me of my father whenever Vernon came to visit—vaguely interested, unable to properly express his discomfort.

"Exactly," I retorted. "We have to work together and that means trusting each other. Now, I may have accepted the fact that you got head boy, but that doesn't mean that I think you're some upstanding citizen."

"You'll just have to accept that you won't understand. It's private, and everything is not my secret to tell."

I stared at him for a few steps and then stopped walking. He noticed after a step or two and turned around to face me. His hair was mussed and his glasses had a smudge on them. He stood there, emotionless. I shook my head and began walking again. He followed.

When I arrived back in the common room, James and I had to inform his playmates that we'd be working together for the next few days until a solution was found. The other three seemed to find this amusing.

"The staff must be exhausted if they are calling upon us to do this," Remus smirked.

"They are," I answered. "How are you doing that?"

"Doing what?" He asked.

"Grinning?" I took a few steps forward. "I haven't seen anyone show emotion in at least 2 hours."

"I'm not sure I know what you're saying," And just like that, his smirk was gone and he seemed to be gripped by the virus once more.

"I'm thinking maybe the emotion thing is a side effect. Temporary perhaps. I heard Benjy Fenwick laugh a few minutes ago." Peter said, looking me in the eye.

"Oh," James seemed to become rather dubious. "I didn't mention to best part to you lot."

My confusion melted for the moment when I remembered the other member of our group. I was gutted. How would I face Severus, much less be forced to work with him?

James continued, "Snape is going to be working with us on the potion-making."

"Ace," Sirius looked positively hacked off.

"I reminded Dumbledore about it," James said enigmatically. The other two seemed to lean in closer. "He was adamant about it all though. There's no getting through to him."

"Personally," Peter began. "I've been thinkin' that Dumble's off his rocker."

"Well he appointed me Head Boy, didn't he?" James guffawed. Everyone's eyes went wide for the first time.

Cynthia Crowley, all the way from the landing leading to the dormitory, swung her head over the railing and called, "Did someone just laugh?"

"I did," Potter admitted. I looked around.

I saw Mary, Hestia, and Dorcas enjoying the fire. I locked eyes with Mary and smiled—just to test it.

"Okay, the emotions back," I called unnecessarily. "Maybe this thing's over?"

"I doubt it," Sirius muttered, seemingly to himself. He and Remus exchanged a look that I couldn't quite decipher.

"You guys are hiding something." I said bluntly. They both shook their heads. "Oh, shove off, you're in unison."

"We didn't do anything," Sirius told me blankly. Remus shrugged behind me, as though he was apologizing.

"But I don't want to face Severus. If you did something, undo it!" I told the four of them. They looked at me with wide eyes. I had to admit, that after a day or so of not having emotion, it felt good to yell at someone.

"I'm not particularly looking forward to working with Snivellus either, Evans, so get off your high horse and stop accusing us," Peter blew out a puff of hot air.

"Don't call him that," I glared at the boy. He didn't back down.

"That's enough." Potter said authoritatively. "Everyone get some sleep. We'll regroup tomorrow morning and start working."

After that everyone started to disperse. I watched as Charlie Huff, who was playing chess with Morgan Loxatt, destroyed the last piece and called checkmate. The other boy shook his head and demanded a rematch, but one look from James had them trudging along upstairs for bed.

Dorcas came over to me and gave me a hug, tucking her head into the crook of my neck. I hugged her back and started to follow her upstairs, leaving the four boys alone.

"What was that Wormtail?" I heard James's voice whisper severely. "Never talk to her like that."

"Calm down Prongs," I heard Remus admonish. "You're being a bit harsh."

"I was just a bit annoyed, mate," Peter's voice floated to my ears. "Don't be strop. I'm sorry."

"Let's get to bed." Sirius said. His voice light with amusement. "I for one am eager to begin the work!"

"You're out of your head, Padfoot," Remus laughed.

"This should be interesting," James sighed. "How were we planning on pulling this off again?"

"Wing it?" Peter piped in.

"Cheers."

To my right, Hestia grabbed my elbow, "Coming Lils?"

"Yeah," I breathed, looking over the railing just in time to see the end of their cloaks as they began to ascend the staircase.

As I lay in bed that night, I couldn't help but feel a bit unnerved. Something wasn't right, and I wasn't just talking about the truth serum. This virus was affecting everyone more severely than I originally thought. Now that the emotions were back, I wasn't sure it was a blessing or curse.

I mentally prepared myself for the possibility of world war three tomorrow. Time would tell. I would be working with my ex-best mate, my ex-arch enemies, and all the while being under the influence of some mystery virus that made it impossible to lie.

I sighed. Bring it on.


	2. Chapter 2

Sometimes I wondered if Hestia was designed—as in, I often speculate that she was drawn up and then given qualities that manage to accentuate her features.

Hestia Jones was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen, only because she was perfect in her imperfection. She was not skinny, nor was she fat. She didn't have spots on her face, but did have a dent near the left side of her forehead, as if she'd run into something as a child. Hestia's eyes were captivating and yet as normal blue as anyone's.

When she wasn't wearing dark blue eyeshadow, she had smudged black eyeliner and mascara covering her lids. There was no way to duplicate this look—trust me, I've tried and failed miserably. Her long black hair was always messy, and I pitied the fool who actually attempted to comb it through. By that, of course I'm referring to Dorcas, but that's neither here nor there.

Hestia and I became friends rather quickly, with little conversation after we both discovered we shared a love for chocolate frogs. Yes, it was a common and frivolous object to base years of friendship upon, but that never seemed to matter to either of us. And when she was sorted into Gryffindor after me, I was so overcome by joy that I think the tears were more about that than the fact that I'd just been sorted myself.

It was impossible to stand beside Hestia and not feel one's self-esteem drop significantly. Don't get me wrong, I'd never been so downtrodden as to dislike her for this, but it was a constant day-by-day struggle to be best mates with the most gorgeous girl ever to grace the halls of Hogwarts.

If there was anything about Hestia that was more memorable than her beauty is was her inability to pay attention to her surroundings. It wasn't so much that she was self-involved. She did care. She just…didn't sometimes.

And if there was one thing that was billed first on the list of things Hestia Jones didn't give one shit about, it was academics. I didn't discover this until third year of course. Even so, had I known beforehand, I'm not sure it would have mattered. There was something magnetic about Hesty, and even though I couldn't always depend upon her one hundred percent when it came to Arithmancy coursework, I knew that when push came to shove, she was behind me.

The fact that Hestia was so skeptical about humanity was just an added bonus.

We sat there in the library that Friday, she was skimming the pages of a month old Witch Weekly while I was taking hurried notes on our newest Transfiguration assignment. It wasn't that I was so enthralled with school work that I actually enjoyed it, but over the years I did develop a tendency to turn to homework when I was stressed or upset. It provided a calm in the storm during the most taxing of days.

"I want to lose half a stone, I think," Hestia told me after staring quite intensely at Josette Voight, the current singing sensation. I let my eyes quickly glance over her eccentrically put together outfit and her frilly hairstyle. I felt my stomach churn at the idea of Hestia losing any more weight.

"You've been consistently dropping kilos since 4th year, Hest, I think you should cool it for a while," I divulged. She rolled her eyes at me, clicking her tongue on the roof of her mouth and blowing out an indignant puff of air.

"Stuff it," She said more to herself than me. "Have you started work with the rat pack, yet?"

"Later this afternoon," I sighed. I accidently rubbed some ink with the side of my hand, causing me to curse under my breath. She of course took this the wrong way.

"Won't be too bad," Hestia flipped some hair behind her shoulder.

"I know," I conceded.

Suddenly the library doors were torn open, and the sound of thundering footsteps raced toward us. I saw Marlene, her hair unusually straight today, meaning she had taken the initiative to straighten it. This could only mean one thing.

"You were with Ryan," I noted without initiating eye contact with her. The blonde scoffed at me before taking a seat haphazardly across from me. She took a few moments to compose herself.

"Where else would I be?" She gave me a look. Hestia laughed at some article in the magazine and then uncrossed her legs. She shifted towards Marlene then, and put her chin on her hand.

"I'm all yours," she said. Then she seemed to rethink it. "On second-thought, my thoughts are tending to go over to the old Slytherin quidditch captain. He was a fox."

"House traitor," I said in a cough. Hestia hit me lightly. "What? I've got a cold."

"Anyway," Marlene pushed forward on the table slightly, as though the added pressure might take our attention and hoist it over to her. It did, but that's beside the point.

"Get on with it," I said, turning the page in my Transfiguration text.

"Ryan's friends with that muggleborn, Rayce Saunders," Marlene said. "And Rayce being the usual show-off he in when birds are around, managed to bring up some sort of game that they used to play when they were kids. It's like—aw, bugger, what did he call it?"

"Does it matter?" Hestia pulled her hair back, leaving behind a few stray strands to just casually frame her face. I could never be sure if she did this on purpose.

"Yes," Marlene insisted. "I want to play!"

"Then you should find out what it's called, shouldn't you?" I laughed to myself. Madame Pince shot a look over to our table and I returned to my book quicker than lightning with a studious expression.

"It's called Sardines I think," Marlene couldn't contain herself. I could see just with the way she was fidgeting and slightly bouncing about that she was excited.

"That sounds disgusting," Hestia shook her head. She sighed. "But I'm bored, so I'm in."

"Gee thanks," Marlene stuck out her tongue.

"Anything for you, doll." Hestia gave her a sweet smile.

"I'll play too, but it would depend when," I explain. "I'm meeting Potter and the bunch in a few. Maybe after?"

"Well we'd need a big group," Marlene explained. "We could play with just the five of us girls, but I'd rather we invite more. Wanna invite Potter and his crew, and I'll make sure Ryan and Rayce know, and Dorcas will want Trent Bagshaw there, and Mary will want what's-his-name boyfriend there."

"His name," I smiled. "Is Tate Bilby, he's in Ravenclaw, and they've been dating for three months. Why don't you know his name?"

"We can't all be amazing friends like you, Lils," Marlene beamed at me.

"Kiss-ass," Hestia coughed. We both looked at her. "What? I have a cold."

"Wait a second," I suddenly shot up. "You just lied!"

"Deal with it, Red," Hestia rolled her eyes.

"No! Don't you see? You lied! Maybe this virus thing is gone?"

"Evans! You're a vision!"

"Bugger off, Black. I have something important to say," I walked into the Potions classroom with a firm posture and a one-track mind. "Hestia Jones lied to me a few minutes ago. The virus must be gone. Thank you and goodnight."

I turned to walk away but was stopped. Suddenly I was overcome by sadness. My body sagged and I felt weak in my bones. My posture turned to slack and I felt my face not want to give any emotion off whatsoever.

"What's going on?" Peter asked with a hint of terror in his voice. "I feel so…"

"Gutted," Remus answered for him.

"Side effects," Severus finally spoke up. It was the first time I'd seen him close up in months. "I figured this would happen. I've been looking into Veritaserum and one of the studies showed that patients who were exposed to high levels of it would occasionally resume their lie-telling capabilities, but upon doing so would be put into a state of varying mood-swings."

"You already studied stuff?" Sirius whinged. "I thought we weren't starting until now!"

"Way to make us look bad," Peter clapped Severus on the back in an almost friendly manner.

The Slytherin scowled and sneered, "You do that all on your own, thanks."

"Wow, Snape," James Potter finally spoke up. "He wasn't trying to take the mick."

"Yes well," Snape didn't continue.

A moment to acknowledge Mr. Severus Snape: The young man stood at seventy-one inches tall and held a certain gait to him, his back hunched forward a bit and sometimes his neck seemed to droop, as though his head was just too heavy. His eyes were dark and intense. I'd always found them to be full and vividly emotional. Mary called them "Beaty" one time and I gave her a thick-ear.

Severus recently had his hair trimmed for the first time in five years, having chopped it to his chin in second year only to be teased by James and his crew. I often pictured him with shorter hair and thought it might, perhaps, improve his looks traditionally speaking, but he refused. On January 12, 1978, Severus Snape's hair was to his shoulders. It was still long and somewhat stringy but no longer appeared to be dirty most of the time.

After fifth year, Severus seemed to put more thought—just a tad bit more, mind you—into his appearance. I couldn't quite say why, but if I had to guess it was because of his new friends. Mulciber, Avery, Black, and Knott. Those gits were a terrible influence. I can't honestly say I hate anyone—even without this virus plaguing me—but if I could hate anyone it would be them.

Today, though James and Sirius were in post-quidditch practice gear, the remainder of our group dressed casually, out of uniform. Peter Pettigrew wore a Chudley Canons shirt that clashed with my hair. I'm not sure why I noticed this, but I did, and made a somewhat conscious effort to avoid standing next to him for that purpose. I can be a bit weird sometimes…

"I think since we aren't sure if this is going to resume or not," James took charge. He pushed his spectacles up his nose a bit and then folded his arms in front of him. "We should divide the researching. Now, Snape, you said you already researched Veritaserum. Thank you for taking initiative."

"Wow," I breathed.

Everyone in the room stopped to look at me. I flushed under their gaze and stuttered a bit on my words, "It's just that…y-you sound so mature. I'm just not used to it, I suppose. Sorry. Continue."

The other three Marauders kept their gaze on me for a moment or two after James began talking again but eventually their attention returned to Potter. Severus, however, managed to give me a look that not only made me feel like a ditz, but also sent a splatter of guilt spilling into my stomach. I averted my eyes so as not to hold his stare any longer than necessary.

I didn't want to work with Severus in the first place. He's been a sore spot on my heart ever since last year when I told him I forgave him for calling me a Mudblood. I told him that I understood why he felt he had to do it.

"You felt pressured because of those gits," I said, referring to the Slytherin slimes that had been standing a few feet away and patted him on the back after he had been dropped by Potter. "I understand, and I trust that it won't happen again."

I'd given him the benefit of the doubt, and he'd spat in my face.

"You don't know anything, Evans." He said darkly. He began to walk away and I turned to call after him, confused. That's when I saw that Mulciber was standing not too far off. Ever since, I'd wondered if his presence had forced Severus's apathy. I secretly hope it did. I don't know if I could bear him treating me like that for no real reason.

"Move on, Lily," I said to myself. The boys looked again in my direction but I shrugged and they proceeded. The uncontrollable truth telling was back.

"Though I don't necessarily like being in the library for more than a few minutes at a time," James continued.

"Unless to snog against the stacks, that is," Sirius guffawed.

"Shut it, Black. We all suspect you're overcompensating, no need to continue," Snape spat. Sirius smirked in a nasty sort of way.

"I don't like where this is going," Remus took the words out of my mouth. "Just keep going, Prongs."

"Right," James said. "I think we should focus our efforts on figuring out if we can isolate any specific ingredients that we know from veritaserum that may affect anyone in gas state. Maybe if Snape and Lily brew a potion, we could charm it and set it into a gas form for mass distribution?"

"Brilliant," I said. "Assuming it works. But good idea, Potter."

"I have one every now and then," He shrugged.

"Becoming modest, too, I see." I smiled at him.

Snape groaned. "Enough with the flirting. So, I'll research some more. We done here?"

"I wasn't flirting," I replied in a whisper at the same time that James said, "Yes."

"Cheers," Severus said slightly sarcastically. He seemed to spring out of the classroom with agility, as though dodging things. I watched him go sadly, the forlorn feeling that had washed over all of us earlier still seeping through me.

"Merlin, I miss him."

"Don't," Remus patted me on the back. He kept his hand there. I knew that it wasn't anything romantic, just a reassuring gesture. It meant a lot.

I turned around, "Thanks, but I can't help it. He's a part of me."

"Sucks, doesn't it?" Potter mumbled as he moved past me.

"Seguing from that in a completely normal way," I grabbed my bag and began to stroll to the door. "Marlene wants to play some game called Sardines. It's a muggle game that she heard about from Rayce Saunders. It sounds like fun." I paused. "I know nothing about it, but she made it sound fun. Anyway, do you lot want to play with us?"

"Maybe," Peter smirked. "When and where?"

"No idea," I told him as we exited the Potions classroom in a clump, the five of us. "Talk to Marlene. She's planning some huge game of it."

"I'm famished," Sirius strode through our pack and made his way to the front, leading us to the Great Hall for supper.

"Padfoot, you're always famished," Remus chuckled.

"Too true," Sirius affirmed, nodding his head. They strode a bit quicker and I had to walk fast to keep up.

"Evans," Potter called. He was a few steps back. I slowed down to get to his pace.

"Look, Potter, I'm sorry that I insulted you before," I told him. "When we were with Dumbledore, I mean. I shouldn't have said that bit about you being a bad Head Boy; you're a great one. You've surprised me on more than one occasion with your maturity and practicality and your ability to lead the others. As much as I hate to admit it, and trust me, I really do, but…you've grown up. I'm proud of you."

"Aw shucks," Potter bit his lip. "Evans, you're going to make me pretend to blush."

"One, you can't pretend to blush. Two, are you mocking me? We're having a moment, Potter!" I rolled my eyes and raised my voice simultaneously. He laughed at me.

"I'm really happy to know that you're coming to your senses and seeing that I'm not a git," He said to me. I grinned.

"Not a total git, you mean."

"Always have to correct me…"

"Well, if you were right every now and then, I wouldn't have to," I told him. I was surprised I was allowed to say this. It wasn't necessarily true, but I suppose because it was true in my head—rather, that I really believed it—that it counted as true.

"For what it's worth, Lily," he stopped walking. I had to step back after I'd already continued ahead. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at me. "I plan to be as civil with Snape as possible."

"That means a lot to me," I paused for a millisecond. "James, thank you."

"Yeah well," he shrugged. "I owe it to him, I s'pose."

I didn't bother asking him what he meant. I didn't really care, honestly. I felt that he did owe something to Severus and if I wasn't going to get an apology out of him, then I'd take what I could get.

"About this whole Sardines business," I said as we continued to walk. The Great Hall was coming into view. I could smell the food and suddenly I remembered that I'd skipped lunch in favor of studying. Curse me and my diligence. I'll blame Hestia somehow. "If there's any sort of partner thing involved…would you like to be mine?"

He beamed down at me for a moment. "I'd love to."

Later that night, we were in our dorm.

Hestia was plaiting Mary brown locks while Marlene read us what Rayce had wrote for her—the rules and purpose of Sardines. Dorcas was on her bed, using her trunk as a desk to write a letter. Dorcas wrote letters constantly. Cynthia Crowley and Agnes Shipler were sitting on Cynthia's bed—Agnes lived with the sixth year Gryffindors in another room. They were heading down to the common room but somehow became caught up in Marlene's rambling.

"It's just like hide and go seek. That game? Does anyone remember that? Except that it's opposite!" She sounded like a child, so excited.

"It's kind of refreshing to see someone so excited about something," I admitted to the group. I took a moment before saying the next thing. Even though there was only a little control left when it came to revealing things—thanks to the virus—I still didn't want to cause any alarm with my next statement. "Ever since Voldemort entered the picture, I feel like all anyone does is live in fear and talk about how to get out of this war."

"It's so depressing!" Agnes agreed. She was the shortest girl in her year—probably shortest above the age of 13, but that's besides that point. Agnes Shipler stood at 4 foot eleven inches and had a small frame. She wore tight shirts and baggy trousers whenever we had a none uniform moment on campus.

Agnes Shipler is a brunette with brown eyes. Agnes Shipler is top in her year. Agnes Shipler is contending very vigorously to be Head Girl next year. Agnes Shipler is the bane of my existence sometimes.

Agnes continued after a moment of applying some cherry flavored lippy that I could smell from across the dorm. "Anyway, back to this Sardines game, isn't it against school rules? I mean, we would have to make sure it was sanctioned by McGonagall first. And I for one, don't want to trespass against the good graces of our head of house."

"You're such a pillow case, Aggy," Hestia groaned. Agnes rolled her eyes and stood tall—well, upright more like.

"I just don't like breaking rules," she contended quite defensively.

"It's not breaking them," Mary reminded her. "We just wouldn't tell the staff, that's all."

"Yes, well," Agnes clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth in a hot-headed fashion. "I don't know if I can be a party to that."

With that, she grabbed Cynthia's hand and pulled her down the stairs. I rolled my eyes.

"No one asked her to join," Dorcas said mildly.

I looked closely at Dorcas, seeing how her letter to whoever was reaching the end of her piece of parchment. I awed at her ability to write so much, "What do you possibly have to save that takes up twenty inches of parchment? And how is your hand not cramped?"

Before I could receive her reply, Marlene butted in to prattle on about her Sardines game once more.

"It's backwards is what I was saying," she changed into pajamas. "One person hides and when you find them, instead of calling them out or anything, you simply hide with them! It's brilliant. Then, one by one everyone finds the hiding spot and the last person to find them loses. The first person who finds them wins and it's their turn to hide the next round."

"Brilliant," Mary was the only one of us who was distracted with another task while listening to Marlene. She also seemed to be genuinely excited about the game.

"I don't think we should tell many people we're going to play," Hestia said, finishing up Mary's hair. They both made their way to their individual four poster beds. As they crawled under the covers, Hestia began applying some form of cream to her face. "Maybe we should have a secret sort of practice game first?"

"That's brilliant," Mary observed, nodding her head.

"Okay," Marlene agreed enthusiastically. "I'll tell Ryan and Rayce and them."

"No," I said suddenly. "Let's just keep this one between us?"

"The five of us?" Hestia looked skeptical.

"No," I was reminded of my conversation with the boys earlier. "Us and Potter, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew."

"And Ryan?" Marlene said hopefully.

"And Ryan, sure," I amended.

"Sounds fine to me," Dorcas mumbled. "But once that's finished can I plan the bigger match? We can make it into a sort of tournament. Like quidditch, but for less skilled people who don't like risking their lives hundreds of feet above the ground."

"Fine by me," Marlene smiled as she blew out a candle near her bed. The furnace in the middle of the room cackled for a moment or two. Dorcas finally finished up her letter and in the little space she had left, I watched as she signed her name with a flourish.

I closed my eyes and exhaled heavily thinking about the game and the virus and Severus and, oddly enough, James Potter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hiya folks! I'm happy to present chapter three! The information on Veritaserum is completely taken from the Harry Potter Wiki and I claim no ownership of the first paragraph. I really would love it if you reviewed and hope you have an amazing day! –M**

**At The Risk Of… Chapter Three. Being Productive. **

_Lily __Evans,_

_Works best upon the unsuspecting, the vulnerable and those insufficiently skilled (in one way or another) to protect themselves against it...just like every other kind of magic, Veritaserum is not infallible. Veritaserum is clear, colourless, and odourless and is almost indistinguishable from water. The potion must mature for a full lunar phase, and is quite difficult to produce. It can be mixed with any drink, and three drops are a sufficient dose to make the drinker "spill out his innermost secrets". Thus, the potion forces the drinker to tell the complete truth to any question asked to him/her. _

_Found this in the library. Perhaps try to include Jobberknoll feathers with mixture? _

_This is all. I won't be continuing to work with you lot. _

_Regards,_

_Severus Snape_

I sighed in frustration as I pocketed the letter Severus had given me as we passed each other in the corridor. I'd been on my way to the library, he was with his cronies. Were they his cronies? These days I couldn't quite tell who was following who. I stuffed the parchment into my bag and huffed out some hair, making my fringe bounce off my forehead for a moment and then land in a funny, disheveled way.

I pushed open the library doors and greeted Madame Pince with a smile before strolling to the Potions section. Normally, I'd go straight to my table and spread out my parchment, quills, ink, and resources before finding my books but I was in a bit of a tizzy considering my annoyance at Sev.

I made my way to the shelf, and using my knowledge of the organizational system, found the books I'd wanted.

I placed _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, 48__th__ Edition_, and _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _on the wood table with an audible _thunk_ and sat down.

"Evans, my acquaintance, you look ordinary," Sirius plopped himself into the chair across from me, a scroll in one hand and a quill behind his ear.

"I'm guessing that with the truth telling serum that's your way of giving me a compliment?" I shook my head in amusement and flipped open the cover of one of my books with vigor. I loved the old book smell. And the new book smell. The smell of parchment. Without thinking, I muttered, "The smell of book…"

"You're a strange one, love," Sirius laughed quietly. He placed the scroll on the table. "I was researching—just like you told me to—and thought maybe Noxious Potion? I mean, the whole thing did start with a gas, and even though Noxious is green and definitely not the sort of gas pertaining to this—"

"No," I cut him off. "You're right, it is green, and its effects are dangerous. It would have been much too potent to counteract with the other ingredients. I like where your head is at though, Black."

He nodded grimly, "I tried."

"You did," I smiled warmly. "And I appreciate that."

"Sod it," he sighed. "I spent forty-five minutes with my nose in a book all about Noxious gas and all of that was for nothing. My time is not being wasted how I would like it to be."

"I like how you don't dispute that you normally waste time," I told him with a small grin playing at my lips. "This is interesting, yeah?"

"What is?"

"Us. Having a conversation. So civilly," I shrugged and half-rolled my eyes. "Not to sound ridiculous, but I enjoy knowing that you're an actual person and not just the despicable caricature that I've imagined you to be all these years."

"Ditto, Evans," he smirked. "Though you're confirming my suspicions of being a bookish snob right about now. Perhaps you'll be the next librarian? Madame Evans."

"Librarian?" I asked skeptically.

"Well, not like Pince—the minx—but more like one of those teasingly sexy librarians. The ones who are so strict and plain near the stacks but once you get home it's like 'Oh Miss Benson!'" He wiggled his eyebrows at me.

"Miss Benson?" I laughed.

"Schoolboy crush," he admitted. "Fancied the pencil skirt off that hag."

"Did you have a lot of those growing up?" I asked, skimming the pages and occasionally writing down information I thought to be pertinent.

"Yeah, probably more than normal. Loads more than Prongs—er, James—that's for sure," he attained a nostalgic glint in his eye.

"Oh yeah?" I was vaguely interested.

"James was only devoted to fancying one bird from eleven to seventeen," he recounted, a half-smile forming as he looked at me. "Lily Evans, you enchantress. You beguiled that sad bastard from the beginnings of puberty onward."

"Me?" My eyebrows shot up.

"Well who else would it be, you nutter," he laughed softly.

"C'mon, Sirius, we both know James had other girlfriends between first and seventh year. He's no virgin yearning after _anyone_," I shook my head. Why did this sort of conversation always happen with me?

"You don't even know him at all, do you Lily?" Sirius looked very thoughtful all of a sudden. "James adores you, for whatever reason."

He gave me a wink and continued, "And you'd do right to give him a chance. James isn't the type of bloke who will give his attention to just anyone. He fell arse over cheek with you since that first time the glint from your hair nearly blinded him in first year."

It was the first time any of his friends had ever talked to me directly about giving James a chance. I'd never thought they particularly wanted us together. My feelings were always pretty clear for him and I thought very strongly that he was only infatuated with the idea of getting me to say yes for his ego.

I cleared my throat because it felt a bit dry and then half-smiled at Sirius, "I got a note from Severus. He suggests it has something to do with jobberknoll feathers—those are common in truth serums apparently."

"Are they?" Sirius put his feet on the chair across from him and leaned back, stretching. He didn't seem as excited about this as I was.

"We have our first clue, isn't that exciting?" I asked cautiously. "I mean, I for one would like to go back to having my thoughts kept private, thank you very much. I guess sometimes feelings and opinions are good to come out, but they open doors, and—"

"Merlin, Evans," Sirius laughed and brought one leg up to rest on the other with his hand resting on his ankle. "You really do enjoy this don't you?"

"I like solving problems, yeah," I admitted, blushing despite it not being too much exposure. "But who doesn't? I'm sure you played with puzzles and whatnot when you were little?"

"I guess a bit, but not for my own enjoyment. It was mostly so that I wouldn't get in the way," He smirked bitterly and I felt the beginnings of my grin fade from my face.

"You really didn't have a good childhood, did you? I mean, I've known that you publically renounced your family, but I thought it was just because they weren't…tolerant."

Sirius brought a hand to stroke his chin for a moment, something unidentifiable ghosting across his features. Finally, he looked into my eyes and pursed his lips. "I suppose not."

"I'm sorry," I felt some sort of compassion burst through me in that moment and I reached across the table to rest my hand briefly on his knee. It wasn't any sort of flirtation, and I know he knew that. It was comfort, but apparently unwarranted because Sirius shrugged it off almost immediately.

"Builds character," He chuckled quietly and stood. "Are you going to be here a while?"

I let myself sigh before replying, seeing his eyes roaming over my study supplies that I'd spread haphazardly around this area. "Unfortunately. At least until Divination."

"Oh yeah, that's today, isn't it?" He looked completely sincere.

"Every Wednesday," I raised an eyebrow at his look of enlightenment at my words. He shrugged again and then picked up his schoolbag that looked like more of a keeper of snacks and trinkets than books and quills.

"I'll be seein' ya, Evans," He tossed over his shoulder. "Take it easy."

"Bye," I called as he strutted down the aisle with his bag thrown over his shoulder and his head rather high. I got back into my research quickly, letting the conversation with Black fall to the back of my mind.

Being the self-absorbed tart that I am, I have come to terms with the fact that Divination was created with the sole purpose of getting on my nerves while slowly wasting my time. I know, it's a cliché, no one likes Divination, blah blah blah. Well, Dorcas does a little, but that's neither here nor there.

I sat in the middle of the classroom, my chin resting on my hand as my eyes drooped for the umpteenth time. I was slowly going to lose my sanity, and if I didn't get out of this class soon, my barmy self would murder Madame Rosvina. She was shamelessly going on and on about how when Mercury was in your fourth moon or some bollocks like that, and frankly, I lost track of my moons before I realized I had them.

Hestia stiffens next to me and I look up to see her glaring at Madame Rosvina. Our professor was a Russian beauty who wore long skirts and tight-fitting tops that made the boys' eyes glaze over. She was nothing special but her aura made you want to listen to her. But once she spoke, that impulse was crucio'ed into obscurity. But a girl glaring at her for being so attractive was not new; however, Hestia was hardly a person to glower because of jealousy, let alone actually be awake during Divination.

"I disagree," She announced with a stunning volume.

"Sorry, dear?" Madame Rosvina turned her head and put a hand up to cup around her ear.

"I disagree with what you just said. I don't think that there is fate, life is the product of the choices we make, and for people to rely upon some third party to push them along is just pathetic," And then, as if she was just dying to actually insult her, she added, "No offense."

"Hestia," I murmured while reaching up to grab the arm of her cloak. She stood and crossed her arms, readying herself for the backlash.

"Miss Jones, I hardly think you have the life experience to have formed such a conclusion." And of course, because she was a young adult and not aged with the wisdom to restrict the smart-arse replies, she added, "No offense."

"Aw, shit," I heard someone whisper with a laugh.

"I've lived through my own hardships. I've had to struggle. I can form whatever fucking conclusions I so desire," Hestia raised her chin. "Thank you very much."

There was a moment of pregnant silence. It hung in the air like a feather dropping gradually to the ground below. Madame Rosvina, who was so composed at this moment that I feared for Hestia's safety (and let's be honest, as I was her partner in this class, it was likely that despite having not said a single word in this, I'd probably be caught in the crosshairs as well).

"Please leave and report to the Headmaster. I'll inform him you are on your way. 30 points from Gryffindor for language use. Refrain from it in the future, thank you very much." She wrote a few words on some parchment, handed it to Hestia, crossed the room and sat down. Madame Rosvina looked over her high tipped nose at Hestia, whose cheeks were more red than usual from anger more than embarrassment.

With a huff, Hesty grabbed her bag and as gracefully as she could, left the classroom.

When we were released to our next class, my mind was rapidly rummaging through too many topics for me to be concerned about Hestia. She'd be fine in any sense.

I walked the corridor like a zombie, my eyes probably going cross every few moments due to my neglect. I almost collided with a first year…twice. But, without injury, I arrived promptly for Defense Against the Dark Arts. I strolled to my normal seat and before anyone could notice, put a cushioning charm on it. The wooden chairs in the DADA classroom were lightweight so as to be easily removed for practical applications, but Merlin were they uncomfortable for any sort of lecture.

Though I get to see a few Ravenclaws during Divination, during DADA Gryffindor and Slytherin cope together. And yes, I've realized the irony.

I recalled a conversation I'd overheard between James Potter and Remus Lupin a few years back.

'We're learning the spells we're going to be using against each other in a few years,' James had grunted and run hand through his hair somewhat angrily.

Presently, I held my breath as Severus walked into the classroom. He walked right past me, not even sparing a glance. I felt rejected, and I knew it was frivolous to be upset because of Sev, but the wound was still healing.

The rest filed in accordingly and after about thirty minutes of lecture about how for this or that spell you were to flick your wand anti-clockwise rather than directly, Severus raised his hand.

"Mister Snape, do you have a question?" Professor Gant asked with his raspy, booming voice.

"Yes, professor, I was wondering if we could discuss Lycanthropy." Severus shot a glance over to someone behind me, and for a moment I thought it was to me. My heart stopped.

"Any particular reason why, Mister Snape?"

"Well, actually yes," he began.

"Is it true that Werewolves get super horny during that time of the month?" Sirius Black's voice barked from behind me. I turned to see him smirking at the laughter his question aroused.

"I don't think anyone has done that particular study, Mr. Black, but I'm sure if you ever encounter a werewolf, they'd be more than willing to tell you."

"Fascinating creatures, eh?" Sirius chuckled, but seemed to be trying to turn the attention off of something.

"I see, well," and thus began a very long lecture about moon cycles and possible treatments that were being tested as we spoke to do with wolfsbane. I took notes despite not being sure this was going to be tested material.

"Professor Gant?" Severus called once more a while later.

"Yes?"

"Could a werewolf go to Hogwarts?" There was some giggling from behind him but other than that there was silence for a moment or two. I heard the scraping of a chair behind me and turned to see Remus Lupin standing.

"Mr. Lupin, are you quite all right?"

"No, professor, I think I might be ill," Remus was glaring daggers at Severus.

"Nonsense, you were grappling with your friends when you entered the classroom," The professor smirked as though he was proud to have trounced Remus.

"I want to leave, sir," Remus replied sternly.

"I'm afraid mere desire to be elsewhere does not bode well as an excuse to leave my classroom. If it did, I would be far away, believe me." Gant laughed with himself as the rest of us just stared at him.

"Professor?" I called without really thinking about it. When Gant's eyes landed on my own, I froze for a second. Where was I going with this?

"Miss Evans?"

"I'd rather stick with the specified lesson plan. I am studying for NEWTS this year, sir, and quite frankly this classroom veers off track on many an occasion and I need to be prepared. I understand Severus might have a curiosity in regards to this subject, but I request he visit the library rather than waste valuable time here, thank you very much." Somewhere in all that I'd stood up and crossed my arms. I sat back down, tucking my uniform skirt under me.

Someone on the Slytherin side of the room clapped slowly in mocking, but I ignored it and focused instead on the annoyed look on Severus's face. It was contempt, but underneath there seemed to be something—hurt?

"Right, well, I can't disagree with that." Gant strode to the front of the room and proceeded to lecture some more on the designated lesson.

With the virus taking a hold of truth telling and the like, I was surprised to find that exaggeration was tolerated—that if you felt angry, you could say you were furious. Because I was terrified of failing NEWTS, my desire to prep for them allowed me to make that speech.

As I pondered this realization, a scrunched up bit of parchment hit the side of my head, making me jump. I smoothed it out as soundlessly as I could manage.

_Thanks –RL _

I looked behind me to see Remus Lupin looking at me appreciatively. Sirius Black sent a salute my way.

_For what?—LE_

I put it to the floor once I'd re-scrunched it up. Kicking it behind me as discreetly as possible, I noticed Mary was looked at me out of the corner of her eye, I shrugged to her.

_For drawing the attention away from Snape. He's a right bollockless twat, if you ask me.—RL_

I had to bite my lip and cough to cover my laugh. I'd never known Remus to use such language. It was endearing in a way to see that he was a rowdy teenage boy after all.

_Anytime –LE_

Mary raised an eyebrow at me and I chuckled while rolling my eyes. She was such a nosy busybody sometimes. I went back to taking notes, drawing a line beneath the werewolf information to separate the topics.

After we were released I practically sprinted over to Severus as he was packing up his belongings. "Sorry to call you out like that, Sev. I didn't mean to be rude."

Silence.

"Sev?"

"Snape will do, Evans. Although, I would prefer if your lips didn't utter my name at all, thanks." Severus snapped at me. I watched as Mulciber patted his shoulder like a father training their toddler. The group finished packing up and walked past me, Avery going so far as to nudge my shoulder upon exiting. I stood there, looking at the space that Severus had occupied.

"Well, someone hasn't had a balanced breakfast," I heard from behind me. I turned to see the shining eyes of James Potter. I looked at him for a moment, my mouth still partly open because of the shock I'd just experienced. He looked back, his eyes alight with humor, and yet also harboring a sadness to them—pity.

"Yeah," was my brilliant reply. He gave me one of those smiles that resembled a frown.

We walked to lunch together.

* * *

Much later as I got ready for bed, I listened halfheartedly to Dorcas as she read off of her parchment a list of people who we were inviting to our practice Sardines game.

"So, we're just going to play in the castle, on the grounds, what?" Marlene asked from her bed.

"I think the grounds will do if we all agree to avoid the Whomping Willow." Mary said sweetly.

Dorcas snorted, "That'd be a laugh."

I crawled into my four poster bed and felt the feeling of the heavy blankets on top of me. It was soothing in a way to have a small weight. My feet were freezing, but then again, they always were.

I prepared myself mentally to relax for a nice night. Perchance I might even get some sleep tonight?

Wrong.


End file.
